How it Would have gone! (in Study in Pink)
by Arty Diane
Summary: "I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day and you wouldn't find anything that you could call recreational." John said confidently. Donovan came in the living room carrying a chess board, "What do you call this then?" My brain veered from the show's original lines and made up it's own dialogue!
1. recreational!

**When I get chronic writers block and I'm stuck in between several stories...****_this_**** happens! My muse has gone wild and gave me random deviations from the show's original lines.**

**First two lines are from the show.**

**If I owned it, this would be canon, not fanfic!**

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"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day and you wouldn't find anything that you could call _recreational_." John said confidently.

"John, you might want to shut up now." Sherlock warned him

Just then, Donovan came in the living room carrying a chess board, "What do you call this then?"

"A slow death sentence." John deadpanned.

Anderson came in carrying a Cluedo box, "What about this then?"

"Ha! That might be less boring than chess I suppose." John mused.

A random police officer came in with an X-Box in his hands, "Look what I found!"

"Hey, put that back!" John said in a scolding tone.

"He had Portal one and two in his room as well!" The officer continued.

"What were you doing snooping in my room anyway?" John said hands on his hips.

"According to _some one_, we wouldn't be able to find anything _recreational_ in this flat!" Anderson said smugly.

"What kind of a drug squad are you?" John asked disbelievingly.

"A volunteered one." Anderson said, oblivious of the sarcasm.

"You need a career change." John told him.

"And a dictionary." Sherlock added.

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**_And_****...there's gonna be more for this episode as well! :D**


	2. I'm thinking of a song

**Thank you for your great feedback! The silliness continues, with John and Mycroft's first conversation.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, then this would have been in the show, not on fanfiction!**

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"You don't seem very afraid," Mycroft examines John.

"You don't seem very frightening," John responds calmly.

"Ah yes. The bravery of a soldier. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don't you think?"

"No, it's not that. Actually, you remind me of a character in a movie."

"Is that so?" Mycroft said leaning on his umbrella.

"Oh no, you shouldn't have done that." John said with a pained expression.

"Done what?"

"Oh bugger, now the song is stuck in my head. I can't get rid of it now!" John buried his face in his hands.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Mycroft was totally confused.

"I'm-" John suppressed a giggle then began to sing, "I'm singing in the rain, I'm sin-ging in the rain…"

"Dear lord, Sherlock's found someone as bonkers as himself." Mycroft deadpanned.

"It's a glorious day, and I'm ha-ppy again…"

"Are you quite done yet?" Mycroft drawled.

"You're image is quite versatile, there's a whole bunch of movie characters that come to mind, and a lot of them have their own songs." John said thoughtfully.

Mycroft paled, "By all means, continue with that happy rain song then!"

"No, the mood passed. Now I feel like singing Jiminy cricket's song…"

Mycroft rolled his eyes, "Well, as long as you don't sing anything involving a spoon full of sugar."

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**Reviews are highly appreciated! This scene of the show has given me at least two more chapters so far. Stay tuned! :D**


	3. A Holmes begging

**Warning: A severely out of character Mycroft. I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. It's my muse's fault!**

**Thank you Jack63kids for pointing out the problems in this chapter. :)**

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, then this would have been in the show, not on fanfiction!**

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Mycroft cocked his head, "Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes?"

John stood his ground, "I could be wrong, but I think that's none of your business."

Mycroft's eyes narrowed, "It could be."

"It really couldn't." John said firmly.

"Alright then." Mycroft said firmly, "So, you're staying then."

"I haven't made a final decision yet…"

"No, you don't understand. You refused the bribe, you failed to be intimidated by me; I'd say you are eligible to survive Sherlock, congratulations!"

John looked apprehensive, "Are…you alright?"

Mycroft was hysterical, "Who, me? Yes, never better! You're staying! I never thought I'd see the day, but Sherlock has found a-"

"Whoa! Hold it mate, I'm not gay!"

"You're going to stay with him, in the same flat. I don't care what you do, as long as you keep him company. Finally, I can have some peace!" Mycroft said with a longing expression on his face.

"You know, you're acting kind of weird for an arch-enemy. Am I somehow aiding you with _defeating_ Sherlock by staying with him?" John said suspiciously.

"I can plan a holiday. I haven't had one those for ages." Mycroft said dreamily.

"Um, yeah, that's nice. I don't know if I can deal with _this_ much crazy in one night, so-" John said cautiously.

"NO! YOU HAVE TO STAY!"

"Here?"

"No, with Sherlock!"

"Fine, fine, I'll stay. Geez, get grip man!"

Mycroft looked ecstatic, "You will?"

"Sure, anything to keep you out of my hair!" John said with a mix of annoyance and alarm.

"THANK YOU!" Mycroft grabbed John's shoulders, "I love you!"

John stepped back, freeing himself from the other man's grip, "Yeah, that's very nice. I'M NOT GAY!"

Mycroft clapped his hands in delight, "I don't care! Just keep that twat out of trouble while I go plan my holiday!"

John watched with amazement at Mycroft's retreating figure, as he put the tip of his umbrella on the ground, leapt in the air and clicked his heels in a perfect imitation of Charlie Chaplin.

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**Guess what? This scene has another chapter to yield! I don't know why my muse has gotten so friendly with Mycroft all of a sudden...**


	4. Let me see your hand

**Thank you all for your great feedback! I'm over joyed! :D**

**Warning: An out of character Mycroft, again!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, then this would have been in the show, not on fanfiction!**

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Mycroft leaned on his umbrella sideways, "I imagine people have already warned you to stay away from him but I can see from your left hand that's not going to happen."

John turned around with a scowl, "My what?"

Mycroft indicated John's hand with his head, "Show me."

John held up his left hand, it's back facing Mycroft. Mycroft raised his own hand towards it. John flinched and moved his hand away, "Don't-"

Mycroft raised his eyebrows and looked at John pointedly. John relented. Mycroft looked at John's hand, then turned it and examined the palm, "Remarkable."

John was curious, "What is?"

"You have the most fascinating lines I have ever seen." Mycroft said thoughtfully.

"Fascinating _what_ now?" John said with utter confusion.

"Good thing the lines on your palm are deep and visible, this makes the reading much easier."

"Um, care to enlighten me?" John said cautiously.

"Certainly!" Mycroft perked up, "See this line near your fingers? This is your heart line. It is long and curvy, meaning you express your emotions and feelings freely. It's also slightly wavy, meaning you've had many relationships and lovers and you haven't had any serious relationships. Hmm, that might not be a really bad thing if you're going to live with Sherlock."

John's phone beeped to announce the arrival of a text.

"Okay, that was-" John began weakly, but Mycroft cut him off.

"And this circle hear shows depression, well obviously!" Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Now, on to the next line, which is the head line. It's separated from the life line. Good, this means you have a taste for adventure and an enthusiasm for life. It's deep and long, so you have clear and focused thinking. Thank goodness for that! Sherlock has one of the waviest head lines I've ever seen."

Mycroft saw the blank look on John's face and explained, "It means a short attention span. He jumps from subject to subject like a sparrow!" He shook his head, "Anyway, back to your palm. Ah, I see lines crossing this line, you're facing a momentous decision. But, I think we both know what the result is going to be." Mycroft said smugly.

John's phone beeped again.

"Okay, that was very int-"

"Ah, you have a curvy life line, and it's far from your thumb, plenty of energy then. You're going to need it if you're to keep up with Sherlock." Mycroft barged on, "Just look at the way it swoops around in a semicircle." Mycroft said with glee.

John's phone beeped for a third time. John yanked his hand way and dug it in his pocket to retrieve his phone.

-Are you on your way? SH

-Any time tonight would be nice! SH

-Where are you? SH

-I've been kidnapped by a crazy palm reader! JW

-A palm reader? Oh! Don't worry, I've got this. SH

John put his phone back in his pocket, getting more confused by the minute. Mycroft took back his hand and continued his scrutiny of it.

"An Earth type hand, yes, that ties nicely with the rest of your character. You're going to need all that patience."

Mycroft's phone beeped. He dug it out, read the text and rolled his eyes. "Well, I guess that concludes our session for now. Next time I'm going to choose a place with better lighting, I'm curious to see your fate line."

-Don't let him see your fate line, he'll never shut up! SH

-I think I really need to contact the hot line for mental crisis right now! JW

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**With great thanks to this site: Read-Palms . I hijacked all the palm reading stuff from there! I'd like to thank Ennui Enigma for her help as well. :D **

**I'm done with this scene, for now. I hear a small voice at the back of my head...Oh, it's my muse conspiring to distort another scene! I wonder which one?**


	5. sniffer dog

**My muse got back to the drug squad scene. She needed a butt for her jokes, so I gave her Anderson!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, then this would have been in the show, not on fanfiction!**

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Sherlock was frustrated, "I'm not your sniffer dog." He spat.

Lestrade was unfazed, "No, Anderson's my sniffer dog."

"Oh, well, that explains a lot." Sherlock said sarcastically.

"What do you mean?" Lestrade was confused.

Sherlock crossed his arms. "No wonder you never get a case solved without me. Your _sniffer dog_ is useless!"

"Hey! I'm standing right here!" Anderson said indignantly.

"When he's on the case you don't get anywhere because he usually ends up chasing his own tail." Sherlock explained.

"What?" Anderson squeaked.

"And don't let me start on his snappiness."

Anderson gaged. Donovan blushed furiously, and Lestrade was trying to keep a straight face.

"Okay, let's just move-" John began.

"Oh, but I'm just getting started. If your sniffer dog had a semblance of a- ANDERSON I DON'T WANT ANY FLEES IN MY FLAT!" Sherlock yelled at said man after catching him in the process of scratching his head.

"You have enough biohazard in the flat already." Anderson protested.

"Oh, let me correct that sentence, I don't want any of _your_ flees in _my_ flat." Sherlock bit back acidly.

"Oh screw this, you have the case, you're the murderer." Anderson accused.

Sherlock smirked, "As always, you're barking up the wrong tree!"

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**I want to thank every one who has read, reviewed, followed and favorited this story, your support helps my muse wreak more havoc on the show! :D**


	6. Clean

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the mix up in posting the last chapter, It's fixed, and hopefully won't happen again.**

**The drug squad again with another misunderstanding! **

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, then this would have been in the show, not on fanfiction!**

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"I am clean!" Sherlock growled

Lestrade raised an eyebrow at him, "Is your flat...? All of it?"

"EWE!" Came Donovan's disgusted exclamation, "What _is_ this?" She held out a gray-green pulp with the tip of her fingers.

"I would hazard a guess and say it's the remnants of an experiment coated in dust mites." Sherlock said evenly.

Donovan tossed it aside. Anderson held out a moldy paper, "And what's this?"

Sherlock frowned for a bit, "I'm guessing a burger wrapper from the previous tenant." He moved to grab it, "It will make for an interesting experiment."

Donovan slid a finger over the mantle, raised her finger and tutted at the dust at the tip of her fingers.

Lestrade wrinkled his nose at the dirty dishes and shot Sherlock a reproachful look.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Do you need to inspect my hair for lice?"

John moved towards the door. Lestrade spotted him, "Hey, where are you going?"

John turned back, "I'm going to clean my room. I hadn't realized health inspectors had come over our flat!"

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**I can't decide if my muse really hates the drug squad, or really likes them. Because she's planing to torment them for the next chapter...**


	7. eyeballs in the microwave

**Warning: Discussions of very disgusting experiments involving eyeballs. I enjoyed writing it, but if you have a weak stomach, I don't think you'll enjoy reading it...**

** Disclaimer: If I owned it, then this would have been in the show, not on fanfiction!**

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Donovan wrinkled her nose, "Are these human eyes?"

Sherlock pointed towards the kitchen sharply, "Put those back!"

Sally kept staring at the dish in her hand, "They were in the microwave."

Sherlock was exasperated, "It's an experiment."

"Oh, really, what kind of experiment?" Sally asked skeptically.

Sherlock raised his chin in defiance, "You don't want to know." He said flatly.

"Oh, she might." Anderson intervened, "Maybe it's illegal."

"They're eyeballs, what sort of illegal experiment can he do on them?" John scuffed.

"He's Sherlock, we can never know with him." Anderson said slyly.

Sherlock kept glaring, then he let out a breath, "Fine, if you want to know so badly-"

"Oh, no!" Lestrade groaned.

"Don't worry sir, we can handle it." Sally said while glaring at Sherlock.

Lestrade turned to John, "You're a doctor, right?" John nodded. Lestrade let out a sigh, "Aright then, I'll go to the next room. I don't think I can handle this next bit." And he left.

Sherlock turned back towards the kitchen. Now all of the drug squad members were looking at him intently. Sherlock's expression shifted into a mischievous one. "So you want to know the details of my experiment, fine! Have it your way then. I was going to put them in vinegar and see what happens."

Two of the officers turned green.

"Why not put them in alcohol? That way you could have eyeball martini." John said thoughtfully.

"Hmm, I see your point; the eyes with green irises do resemble green olives." Sherlock mused.

One of the officers bolted for the door and ran to the bathroom.

Donovan was unfazed, "Why were they in the microwave then?"

"I had planned to only pickle a few of them, I wanted to see what happens if I cooked the rest in the microwave. The result must be different from when I boiled them."

Another officer staggered out of the flat.

"You boiled eyeballs?" Anderson asked disgusted.

"I wanted to check the suspect's alibi in the Boyden's case. The victim seemed to have fallen in a soup pot and boiled to death. I thought his eyeballs seemed odd for that kind of death. After my experiment I figured out he wasn't boiled in the soup pot, but baked in the bread oven."

"That was brilliant!" John exclaimed.

"Oh, gross!" An officer groaned, while helping his colleague exit the flat on shaky legs.

Sherlock smiled and turned towards John, "So, doctor, what do you think will happen if the eye balls are cooked in the microwave?"

John cleared his throat and began, "They will start expanding with a hissing sound, then they'll explode and let out a pink slimy goo. The shells will ricochet, hitting the walls and finally come to rest in the puddle of slime on the oven's floor." John delivered this explanation in a clinical tone. Three more officers ran for the loo.

"That sounded really precise, how did you know all those details?" Sherlock asked him casually.

"Simple, me and my lab partner got bored and conducted that experiment in the lab's microwave." John said casually.

"Did it relieve your boredom?" Sherlock asked in a similar tone.

"Oh, yeah, it was so cool! My favorite part was when the irises splattered on the door and made colorful splashes!" John said gleefully. "And the popping noises were hysterical!"

"Oh god! You two are made for each other!" Donovan choked. Anderson had turned a funny shade of green.

"Can we conduct the experiment again?" Sherlock asked excitedly.

"Sure, but you'd have to help clean the slime, it gets rather sticky after it cools down." John said enthusiastically.

Donovan and Anderson bolted to the door.

John and Sherlock looked at their retreating forms with satisfaction.

"So," John began, "You really want to do the experiment after the case is done?"

"Of course," Sherlock said smoothly, "I believe it'll be entertaining enough to grab some popcorn for it as well.

John suddenly perked up, "How about we microwave the popcorn along with the eyeballs?"

"Ah, I can see your point. The kernels shooting in the oven along with the splashing of the inner liquid of the eyeballs has a certain aesthetic appeal." Sherlock said thoughtfully.

"Oh god," Lestrade choked, "I can't believe- that image- Oh I'm going to-" And he ran out of the flat for the nearest available bathroom.

"I forgot he was here." John said casually.

"Me too." Sherlock said distractedly. Then he snapped back into attention, "Alright now, back to the case!"

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**Where in earth did I get the description of what goes on with exploding eyeballs you ask? From the hysterical fic "Eyeballs in the Microwave" By Ennui Enigma. She kindly allowed me to use it. Go and read how John conducts the experiment in their flat!**

**Edit: Thank you Jack63kids, for pointing out the mistakes!**


	8. Stand down!

**The squad getting harassed again by the muse. Enjoy! :-}**

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, then this would have been in the show, not on fanfiction!**

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Lestrade ordered loudly to his team, "Keep looking, guys." Then he turned towards Sherlock, "Or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down."

Sherlock let out an annoyed sigh, "Fine, I'll help! Now stand them down, I had enough of them demolishing my living quarters."

Lestrade hid a grin behind his hand, "Alright guys, that's enough. He's going to cooperate." He called to his team.

Anderson looked up, then took of the lid of the sugar bowl and looked in. Donovan sniffed at the dish holding the eyeballs.

"Okay guys, that's enough snooping." Lestrade called out to his team.

Everyone seemed reluctant to let go of their task.

John rubbed his eyes in frustration.

"If they don't stop their snooping, I won't help you." Sherlock said getting more irritated by the second.

"That's enough guys!" Lestrade called to his team again, to no avail.

"PUT EVERYTHING DOWN!" Came an authoritative shout, "NOW!"

Everyone in the room froze. Sherlock slowly turned towards John and looked at him with awe. John was standing with his back straight and his eyes flashing.

Some of the younger members of the squad put down what they were holding. A Constable was holding the Union Jack pillow. John glared at him and he dropped it on the sofa. He sighed in relief when John gave a curt nod in approval and shifted his gaze elsewhere.

"Who gave you the authority to give us orders?" Anderson said defiantly.

"You weren't listening to your superior officer." John answered sternly. "I just delivered his orders."

"I'm the head of the forensic team; I don't have to take orders from _you_!" Anderson spat.

"Well, I'm an army captain and this is my flat, so what I say goes!" John said firmly.

"Ex-army, and this isn't a military camp."

"Don't test me!" John said from behind gritted teeth.

"I'd listen to him if I were you Anderson." Lestrade warned.

"Or what?" Anderson said stubbornly.

"Okay, that's it." John said letting out a huff of breath. Then his eyes turned hard. "Drop and give me twenty!" He said firmly.

"Wha-?"

"THIRTY, NOW!"

Anderson paled and dropped on the floor and started doing push-ups.

Everyone looked at John apprehensively. John cleared his throat, "Now, I suggest if you don't want to join him leave the flat." He said sternly.

Everyone bolted for the door. The flat was empty except for John, Sherlock, and Lestrade. Anderson bailed along with everyone else.

John turned to Lestrade, "Now _that_ is how you give a stand down order." He said with a bright smile.

"That was more like a stand to arms order if you ask me." Lestrade said nervously.

John gave him a wry smile, "Yeah, okay, enough chit-chat. Back to the case. Sherlock?"

Sherlock shook himself out of his trance. "Yes, well, the victim…"

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**Thanks for all the positive feedback! Who would have though 13 would be my lucky number? This is my 13th story and it's one of my most successful ones so far. Thank you every one who has read, reviewed, followed and Favorited. You're lovely people! :D**


	9. A Pretend drugs bust?

**The drug squad had it coming...More BAMF John, and not just verbally. Enjoy!**

**Warning: Beware Anderson's stupidity, he might bring down your IQ!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, then this would have been in the show, not on fanfiction!**

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Sherlock scoffed, "What - so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?"

Lestrade tilted his head, "It stops being pretend if we find anything."

"Aha! Found something!" Anderson said smugly.

John craned his neck and saw that Anderson was standing in front of one of the cupboards. John frowned in confusion, he didn't remember seeing anything illegal there, in fact that was the- "Oh God, you can't be serious!" John muttered while pinching the bridge of his nose.

Lestrade was taken aback, "What, seriously? In the cupboard?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, "What have you found, Anderson?"

"This!" Anderson said triumphantly, holding up a bottle full of pills.

"Those are Aspirin!" John admonished.

"Okay, what about _these_ then?" Anderson held a plastic container.

"Ibuprofen."

"And this bottle here?"

"Multi-vitamin pills"

"How about _this_ bottle?"

"That's cough syrup!" John was quickly losing his patience.

"Those are all common household medicines, Anderson." Sherlock drawled, not believing how stupid Anderson was.

"These are all _drugs_!" Anderson said vehemently.

"Anderson-" Lestrade began tiredly.

"Shouldn't we confiscate the _drugs_ we find?" Sally began, "After all, we're the drug squad, aren't we?"

"Aha! What have we here?" Anderson said gleefully, holding a tin cylinder.

"_No_!" John said horrified.

Anderson opened it and sniffed at the contents of the container, "Hmm, Earl Gray. You know, in Oriental medicine-"

"Don't you dare!" John warned

"-tea is considered a drug, so…"

"That's _it_! I've had it with you idiots, out of the flat, _now_!" John roared.

Everyone in the flat froze. Anderson seemed undecided.

John took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. "Put the tea caddy down."

Anderson tilted his head and did not comply.

John narrowed his eyes, "This is your last warning!" John said dangerously, "Put the tea down and leave the flat, _now_!"

"Or what?" Anderson said smugly.

Anderson had to duck his head as something solid swooshed close to the side of his head. Every one scrambled out of the flat as John started hitting everyone within his reach with the Union Jack pillow. Who knew being hit with a pillow would hurt so much?

In less than a minute the flat was empty save for John, Sherlock and Lestrade, who was hiding behind his consultant.

Sherlock cleared his throat, "Don't you think you over reacted just a tad doctor? The shops are still open, you could-" Sherlock cut his sentence short after seeing John's glare directed at him. He had to fight a fit of giggles from escaping his mouth.

John directed his glare at Lestrade, "Next time," He heaved a breath as Lestrade gulped, "bring along a squad that knows what _drugs_ they should actually look for!"

Lestrade nodded frantically.

"And Sherlock," John addressed his flat-mate coolly; "nobody, and I mean _nobody_, messes with the tea. Consider yourself warned!"

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**Looks like the muse is having too much fun tormenting the drug squad... :D**


	10. In the phone booth

**Sorry it took me so long to update this series. My computer broke down and then the muse abandoned this story. But, another viewing of the episode got her back on board!**

**This one is an alteration of John and Mycroft's phone conversation after John leaves the crime scene.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, then this would have been in the show, not on fanfiction!**

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John spotted the pay phone ringing besides him after he failed to hail a cab. Curiosity got the better of him and he stepped inside the booth and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" he answered the phone tentatively.

A strange voice answered him from the other end of the line, "There is a security camera on the building to your left. Do you see it?"

John looked at his left, the stranger sighed, "Your other left." He said tightly.

"Hey, I only have one left, and I'm turning in the right direction!" John snapped.

"Fine, then look- what are you doing?" The voice asked irritated.

"I'm looking at my _other left_, as you put it so eloquently!" John answered sarcastically.

The man sighed, "Just, pic a direction, find the security camera, and look at it." He said exasperatedly.

John let out a frustrated breath, "Why am I even talking to you?"

"Look at the camera and you'll find out!"

"Okay, I'm looking at my left. Which camera should I be looking at?"

"How many security cameras are there?" The mystery man sounded confused.

"Well, there's a black one in front of Tesco, there's one attached to the wall, and there's another one in front of that pizza shop. Which one am I supposed to be looking at?"

There was a stunned silence at the other end. "You just had to pick this phone booth, didn't you?" The man deadpanned.

"Hey, you called this phone!"

"We called two other phones as well, why did you have to ignore them?" He ranted.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now." John separated the receiver from his ear.

"Wait." The voice said authoritatively. John kept the receiver to his ear and raised his brows at the security camera.

A muffled conversation was heard then the mystery man was back on, "Alright, pay attention to _all_ of the cameras. Do you see them?"

"Yeeees." John stretched his answer in mock encouragement.

"Watch." The voice said smugly. All three cameras pointed down.

John raised his eyebrows, impressed.

"There is another camera on the building opposite you. Do you see it?" The man asked calmly.

"Mm-hm." John hummed his positive response. The camera turned to its the left.

"And finally, at the top of the building on your right." The man said arrogantly.

"I assume there's a point to giving my neck crams?" John quipped.

"Oh for the love of-" The man was losing his temper.

"And how are you doing this?" John asked testily.

"Get into the car, Dr. Watson. I would make some sort of threat, but I'm sure your situation is quite clear to you." The man said with forced calmness.

John looked at the car as the driver got out and opened the door for him. John went to the car and looked at it. Then he looked at the driver, "Didn't you pass in front of me twice before you stopped now?"

At his office, Mycroft was massaging his temples, "This one is just as annoying as Sherlock is. I almost dread interviewing him!"

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**Come on! Who else besides me thought that scene went a bit too smoothly? It was practically begging to be altered! My Muse loves to tease Mycroft, it can't be helped...**


	11. Very Keen indeed!

**The muse decided to have another go at the drug squad, she just ****_loves_**** to torture them! This idea came to me a while ago, it seemed great at the time, but I'm not too sure about how it turned out...**

**Disclaimer: If I owned it, then this would have been in the show, not on fanfiction!**

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Sherlock scowled, "Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?"

Anderson looked smug, "Oh, I volunteered."

Lestrade interrupted them before they got into an argument, "They all did. They're not strictly speaking _on_ the drug squad, but they're very _keen_."

Sherlock snorted at that comment.

"What? Why are you laughing? What did I say?" Lestrade was confused.

"Oh inspector, I can think of quite a few adjectives to describe your so called drug squad, and _keen_ is not one of them." Sherlock drawled.

"Why not? They were quite enthusiastic about raiding your flat." Greg explained.

"That is the last meaning of the word 'keen' in the dictionary, and this selection of Scotland Yard's finest doesn't even come close to possessing the other qualities described there." Sherlock drawled.

John brought a dictionary, opened it to the right entry and handed it to Sherlock. Sherlock took a cursory look at the page, nodded his thanks to John, and turned back to Lestrade.

"I'll skip the first definition that is 'having a fine, sharp cutting edge or point'. The second one is 'having or marked by intellectual quickness and acuity'. Having brought Anderson along with you has canceled out any intelligence on the team, so there goes _that_ definition." Sherlock ended with a smirk.

"Hey!" Anderson protested, but no one paid him any attention.

"Let us move to the third definition which is 'acutely sensitive'. Allow me to demonstrate that." Sherlock turned towards an officer with snow white hair, looking at the book case. He cleared his throat and called, "Barton!" the officer did not react. Sherlock called again, louder this time, "Barton!" with the same result. Sherlock moved closer to him and called loudly, "Barton!" The officer turned calmly and looked at Sherlock questioningly. Sherlock suppressed a smile, "Anything you like in my library?"

Barton smiled, "I'll let you know if I find anything interesting."

"You do that." Sherlock told him neutrally, then he turned towards Lestrade again with raised eyebrows. Lestrade was looking uncomfortable.

Sherlock smirked, "Next, 'sharp; vivid; strong'", he turned to look at the kitchen where a young constable was struggling to open a jar, "Do you need help with that Jones?"

Jones blushed, "No, thanks. I've got this."

Sherlock turned to face a squirming Lestrade, "The penultimate definition in that entry was 'Pungent; acrid', which thankfully does not apply to your team. Now, the last one was along the meaning you had in mind. And that, well, John, would you-?"

John cleared his throat and addressed the yarders swarming their flat, "Out of curiosity, don't you people have anywhere better to be?"

The yarders looked at each other and started to mumble. Amongst the noise words like _home_, _date_, and with a growing frequency _bored_ could be heard.

Lestrade face palmed, "There goes _that_ definition." He sighed. "Okay people, you can go home, I'll deal with my consultant myself."

The yarders began to file out of the flat eagerly. Jones was particularly happy about being released. John saw him grin at one of his colleagues as they passed, "That was a keen investigation, mate!"

* * *

**So, what did you think?**

**To Bloodlily16: Please turn on your PM option. I wanted yo thank you for your reviews and answer your questions but I couldn't, so I'll do it here. Thank you for your lovely reviews on every chapter!**


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